Invisible Kid
by Sweet Amber
Summary: Marilyn Sterling was taken away from everything she knew. She's the object of ridicule and wants nothing more than to be understood and left alone. Now in Canada, will her life change? Or will it go back into the deathly cycle?
1. Prelude

Disclaimer: I do not own the series, the cast, the actors, or the crew behind "Degrassi: The Next Generation." The only things I own in this piece is Marilyn Sterling and any characters knitted to her (IE: parents, siblings, boyfriends, girlfriends). I do not know/own Metallica nor any song that they have ever written.  
  
This is a pure work of fiction, I am not liable for anything. The events within the text never happened in real life.  
  
~*~  
  
A girl stood in the music room of her high school, leaning onto the piano and counting along to the beats of the music coming from the stereo. Her purple eyes closed, black eyeliner hiding their existence, and she brought her head down, her black hair hardly shifting from its gelled state; spiked in the back and hanging somewhat loose in the front, framing her face. She began to sing again, "Ooh, what a good boy you are. Out of the way and you're kept to yourself. Ooh, can't you see that he's not here. He doesn't want the attention you give. Ooh, unplugged from it all. Invisible kid floats alone in his room. Ooh, what a quiet boy you are. He looks so calm floating 'round and around in himself-"  
  
The music stopped and she quickly noticed. The female teacher spoke up, "That was great, Marilyn."  
  
Marilyn, as she's called, clicked her tongue; the metal adorning it hitting the roof of her mouth. She stopped to talk, "Thanks, but I'm thinking about changing the song. Maybe to an old school Metallica song."  
  
The music teacher motioned to the door, "You should keep this one, but it's up to you. I'll see you tomorrow in class?"  
  
"If I don't skip." Marilyn corrected with a laugh, "there's an art show next week and I have to finish up my sculpture." She picked up her long, black pleather coat and put it on, "Mr. Urness said I might be able to place third this year."  
  
"Only third?" A male's voice made itself known.  
  
Marilyn jumped slightly and turned her body to face the door, "Slade, you scared me." She said to the tall boy leaning against the door frame.  
  
Slade smiles, "I'm sorry, Mare." His brown and lime green hair was made up into a faux hawk, his countless piercings glistened in the well lit room. "Are we ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah." Marilyn turned to address her teacher, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Hammond." She slings her messenger bag over her right shoulder and walked over to Slade; black boots clunking against the floor.  
  
Slade put an arm around Marilyn when she got to him and they began to walk through the High School building, "Think your parents found out by now?"  
  
"I bet they did. It doesn't take long to find out that your daughter 'stabbed' someone." Marilyn joked.  
  
"How'd that start anyway? I was sleeping through Science when it happened." Slade questions and pushes open the doors leading to the cafeteria.  
  
"Oh, you know. It's the same old thing... I go into gym and people shoot the same worn and pompous jokes about me. But then something new happens."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Marilyn nods, "Natasha Krier and her entourage thought that it would be a grand idea to see how easily they could get inside my head, like they could. Push came to shove and they started saying the most idiotic things, of course they had to press the 'family' button and tick me off."  
  
"Of course." Slade chimes in again.  
  
"They pulled the father card and I, well, snapped. Natasha never saw my pen coming." She laughs.  
  
~*~  
  
Marilyn was sitting Indian style on her bed; her long skirt carefully rearranged. She looked up at her mother and step-father, who were almost to the point of popping a vein. "What did you want me to do? Stand there and let them talk like that?" She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, one for every digit, and moved her eyes around her dungeon like room before resting them back on her parents.  
  
"Yes if it meant you wouldn't stab them!" Her mother yelled.  
  
"Her. I stabbed her. " Marilyn stated pointedly, "Do you even know what she was saying?"  
  
Marilyn's father began to pace, "I don't care. This is the sixth time this month alone that you've caused trouble."  
  
"I'm doing well then, and of course you wouldn't care."  
  
"Marilyn, don't start with us." Her mother crossed her arms, "What are we going to do with you?"  
  
"I don't think that there's anything you can do."  
  
Mr. Sterling stops pacing, "You've done stupid things before, Marilyn, but this takes the cake. You've ruined our reputation!"  
  
"What reputation!" Marilyn tries not to scream, "This is Brooklyn, everyone's reputation is mashed together as one!"  
  
"Don't you raise your voice to us, young lady. Maybe staying here is the problem. I think a move is in order, maybe then you won't look like Death." Marilyn's mother looks at her with shame and disgust. 


	2. Here To Stay

Marilyn climbed out of a red SUV; black eyes looking up at the red brick house before her. A disgusted sigh escaped her lips and she turned her head to direct her attention to the adults, who were smiling broadly, "Canada? You brought me to Canada?" Her tongue-ring occasionally hit the roof of her mouth as she formed words, "It's not like I'm a serial killer."  
  
The older man addressed his daughter, not looking at her, "You might as well be. After all those stunts you pulled at your old school, we wouldn't be able to hold our heads up high."  
  
"Stunts?" Marilyn ran a hand through her hair, "You always said to express myself." She pointed out.  
  
"Would you take the time to look at yourself!" Her mother shrieked, "You're a Satan worshiper!"  
  
"Correction, Mother, I'm not a Satanist." Marilyn shot back, shutting the car door.  
  
"Enough, Marilyn." Her Father looked at her, ashamed at her appearance; black embracing everything except her ghastly pale skin.  
  
"If the people here start calling me 'Yank...' I'm out." Marilyn walks to the back of the vehicle and opens the trunk door. The movers had come the day before, her Mother had flown over and stayed behind to direct where everything was to be set, she then came to the airport to wait for the rest of her family. She pulls out a couple small boxes and stacks them on top of one another. "I loved New York, we could have moved to Queens, Albany, Stillwater... not Canada."  
  
Marilyn quickly carried the boxes inside the house before her parents could have the last word. She kicked the front door closed, after a long struggle with opening it, and began to look for the staircase. A family friend had done a house search for the Sterling's and described this house in detail to Marilyn's parents, but not to her.  
  
Marilyn sighed; the boxes gaining weight her arms. She finally found the staircase, at the back of the house, and made her way up them. "Last door on the... left, was it?" Marilyn thought to herself, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. She didn't know, she was always clueless about absolutely everything, but decided that she'd find out sooner or later.  
  
~*~  
  
"Oh... myGod." Paige Michalchuk let out in one breath, "What was that?"  
  
Hazel Aden sat up from her laying position on the grass, "What was what?"  
  
Paige pointed across the street, "That... thing that climbed out of the SUV."  
  
Jimmy Brooks, who was playing cards with Spinner Mason, turned his head to look where Paige was pointing, "I don't see anything."  
  
"There was this girl, at least I think that's what it was, and she was a- a- " Paige stammered.  
  
"Goth? Yeah, I saw... big deal." Spinner places a queen of clubs on the lawn and pokes Jimmy in the arm, "Go fish."  
  
Paige rolled her eyes, laying back down next to her best friend, and replaced her pink sunglasses back in front of her eyes.  
  
~*~  
  
Marilyn found her room and set the heavy boxes in the middle of the floor. She stood up and looked around, a pink tint on the walls matching the pink carpet, "Ugh. First thing... new carpet and a coat of paint." She sighed and walked forward to her ebony four poster bed. Falling back on it, she looks up at the dingy ceiling and gagged, "Out of one festering pool of judgment and into another." 


	3. Living Dead Girl

Marilyn had fallen asleep, her hair flattened out and she was contorted into a tiny ball. Her mother walked into the bedroom and sighed when she saw the sight of her daughter asleep, when there was well over a days work still ahead of them. She hesitated before walking up to her daughter; silly as it is, she was scared of half her own flesh and blood.  
  
"Wake up, Marilyn." Mrs.Sterling shook her daughter's leg, "Some neighbors just rang the doorbell, they look about your age."  
  
Marilyn groaned and opened her eyes, "And you want me to greet them?" She nodded to herself as she sat up, running her talon-like fingernails through the back of her hair, she made a mental note to see if she could find her favorite hair glue here.  
  
Marilyn rolled out of her bed, adjusting her Bondage girl pants when she stood, and made her way to the front door. She shuddered when she got to the foyer, seeing the shape of a blonde in tight clothes, but then she chuckled knowing what surely will come. Marilyn jogged up to the door and placed her hand on the knob, turning it she opened the door, "Can I help you?"  
  
Jimmy, Hazel, Spinner, and Paige jumped slightly, almost simultaneously, when they caught sight of Marilyn's eyes staring at them. Paige spoke up, "We just wanted to welcome you to town."  
  
"Oh?" Marilyn replied, trying to hide the amusement working its way onto her expression.  
  
"Yeah..." Jimmy spoke up, "We were hanging out in my lawn when we noticed you guys moving in."  
  
Spinner swallowed, nearly scared half to death, and looked away from Marilyn's contacts, "I'm Spinner." He began to point to his friends, "That's Jimmy, Paige, and the one on the end is Hazel."  
  
Marilyn took in Spinner's 'and-who-or-what-are-you' look, "Marilyn." She acknowledged herself, "What? No bat brain brownies?" She smirked, knowing full well that the four would take her seriously.  
  
"Eegad, no." Hazel made a face, "Just a welcome."  
  
"Thank you anyway." Marilyn backed out of the doorway and closed the door, laughing.  
  
The four friends quickly scurried from the Sterling's front porch and made their way back to the Brook's home, "You don't think she was serious... do you?" Jimmy broke the odd silence, shutting the front door and looking out the peep hole.  
  
"Of course she was, we all saw her." Paige crosses her arms, "That thing is coming to our school!"  
  
~*~  
  
"I give them ten minutes before they all run screaming." Marilyn thought as she looked up at Degrassi Community School, "No. More like two." She added, hearing whispers behind her. She was use to being the loner type anyway, so this wouldn't faze her... that much. She was in another country, so if the lies and rumors didn't kill her, the culture shock would.  
  
Marilyn picked up her messenger bag, lying by her feet, and placed the strap on her shoulder. She pulled down her skirt with her left hand and took a deep breath, she took a step forward and began walking towards the school. Clicking her tongue was a nervous habit, right now the noise closely resembled horse hooves as she walked up the steps and opened one of the main doors.  
  
Right away she knew that she was lost. The maps were little help so she decided to find the office on her own, but luck would have it that she ran into someone as she turned the corner.  
  
"Watch it!" A male's voice yelled, he turned around and looked up to see who smacked into him.  
  
"You watch it." Marilyn shot back to Spinner, "Who stands at the corners of hallways anyway."  
  
Spinner looked up, and into Marilyn's now red eyes, "Maybe if your eyes would stop changing color you'd be able to see where you're going."  
  
"Maybe if you weren't so short I wouldn't slam into you." Marilyn stood over Spinner, only because of her large boots. She pushed past him and continued down the hall, looking for the office. She finally found it, after what seemed like hours, and entered.  
  
~*~  
  
She stands beside Mr. Simpson. Media Immersion was her first class of the day, she'd much rather have art or music, but it wasn't meant to be. All the classes that Marilyn detested were before her last two hours; Literature and Art.  
  
"We have a new student with us, guys. Marilyn-" Mr. Simpson began, but was interrupted by Paige.  
  
"Manson." She snickers.  
  
Marilyn crosses her arms, "Actually, no. That's an insult to Marilyn Manson. My mother's obsessed with Marilyn Monroe, but my last name's Ster- ling." She drags out her last name, as if speaking to a very slow child.  
  
"Tell us about yourself." Mr. Simpson smiles.  
  
"There's nothing much to tell. I used to live in Brooklyn, New York, but I was taken here against my will. I'm sixteen and loathing every minute of it, and I wish that everyone in the world would die and leave me alone. Any questions?"  
  
Jimmy smiles and starts to talk, "What's with all the make-up? What's up with the messed up cross? Do your eyes change color every freaking second?" He laughs along with a few other people.  
  
"I'm what you would call a goth; I'm a non conformist, which is actually conforming to non conformism. This is an inverted cross, though I'm not a Satanist, I like to see how people judge." Marilyn raises a hand to her face, a black nail touches the contact in her right eye and moves it around. There are some grossed out groans, but some people keep looking and see distinctive green eyes behind the red lenses, "Contacts."  
  
"Well... there's an open spot next to Spinner." Mr. Simpson points out.  
  
Gritting her teeth, Marilyn walks over to the rows of computers and takes the seat next to Spinner. She was at the last computer, nearest the isle, and was glad for that; she's be able to get out of the class faster.  
  
Spinner turns his head and looks at Marilyn. He starts to count the piercings that he can see, he gets to 19 before he has to work again; 15 and a gauge in her right ear, a lip-ring, an eyebrow piercing, and the tongue-ring... 34 in all. Spinner shudders.  
  
~*~  
  
"She's scary!" Paige exclaims, "Just look at her!"  
  
Craig Manning looks over at the object of Paige's discomfort. Marilyn is sitting on the grass, headphones on and leaning against a tree. Her eyes are closed, arms crossed, and a foot tapping to the beat of the music that was snaking its way through the are; their table was only 20 feet away and they could hear the music fine, but had no idea what band it was. "She's Ashley multiplied by 500," Craig laughs kindheartedly, "but she doesn't seem that scary."  
  
There were stifled laughs around the table and Hazel speaks up, "Well, I hate her already."  
  
"Why? You don't even know her- none of us do." Craig questions.  
  
Jimmy laughs, "Go talk to her then, if you don't get scared out of your pants before you can get a word in." He points a potato chip over in Marilyn's direction, "She's probably a mass murderer."  
  
"Yeah," Spinner chimes in, "and she like, kills hundreds of people."  
  
Craig shakes his head with a laugh. He stands up and wipes crumbs off of his pants, "I'll do it. If I don't come back in 15 minutes... call the police." He laughs and starts off toward Marilyn, as he's walking the blaring music gets louder. Craig steps up beside Mariyln's outstretched legs and clears his throat, "What are you listening to?"  
  
Marilyn opens one eye and sees Craig looming over her. Shutting off her cd player, she takes off her headphones, "Megadeth."  
  
"Are they any good?"  
  
"They are to me." Marilyn looks up at Craig again, "And you are?"  
  
"I'm Craig, Craig Manning."  
  
"Marilyn. Tell me, Craig, those friends of yours bribe you to talk to me?" 


	4. Solitary Unraveling

"Kind of..." Craig admits.  
  
Marilyn nods, "M'hm. Thought so."  
  
"... I hear you're from Brooklyn. I've always wanted to visit New York, but New York city especially."  
  
"Best city in the world." Marilyn states and puts her cd player in her bag.  
  
Craig rubs the back of his neck, "How do you like it here so far?"  
  
"I want to shoot myself."  
  
"That's a little... harsh, don't you think? It's not that bad here."  
  
"It is, and it's not harsh if you're me." Marilyn stands up and fixes her pants; black with silver chains hanging from them, death's heads attached to the chains, "You might want to get back to your friends. Paige looks like she's about to shed her human form." Slinging her messenger bag strap onto her shoulder, she starts off to the school steps.  
  
Craig shuffles back to the table and sits down, "She's a little odd, maybe, but not scary or anything." He shrugs.  
  
~*~  
  
Liberty Van Zandt looked up from her lunch and at the tall girl in front of her, "Can I help you?"  
  
"You're the editor of the newspaper, right?" Marilyn asked.  
  
J.T York, who was sitting by Emma Nelson, Manny Santos, and Toby Issacks, sat up straight. He grinned at the gothic girl, "I lost my phone number... can I have yours?"  
  
Marilyn looks across the table to J.T., "Nice try, kid."  
  
Liberty laughs, "I am. Why do you ask?"  
  
"I was interested in being a reporter, that is until the high school is back up and running again." Marilyn directs her attention back to Liberty, but then to Emma when she scoffs.  
  
"You? Like anyone would take you seriously."  
  
Marilyn smirks as she slides Emma's tray from the center of the table closer to the tiny blonde, "You haven't touched your food. I'd rather have people think of me as a joke than not at all."  
  
"I'm sorry, but we have all of the reporters we need. We could use a photographer though, Craig Manning never got back to us." Liberty explains.  
  
"I'll do it." Marilyn replies.  
  
"Can you even take pictures?" Emma spits.  
  
Marilyn pats her bag, "No. I just like to carry a camera around everywhere."  
  
Emma glares and looks down at her food.  
  
~*~  
  
"Prick." Marilyn kicks her locker. She sighs, realizing that it won't open and sits on the floor. She hears snickers and murmurs as people walk by her, the remarks soaking into her like a sponge.  
  
Sean Cameron walked past her, laughing as he looks at her and says something to Jimmy, Craig, and Spinner; loud enough for her to hear. "Do you think her face is covered with paint? Or did she die of fright when she saw her reflection in a mirror?" He hi-fives his friends, all but the frowning Craig, sending Marilyn bolting to her feet.  
  
She walks over to the boys and begins to yell at them, "Look. If you have crap to say about me, you say it to my face!" Marilyn was causing a scene, people in the hallways began to stare. 


	5. Dried Up, Tied, and Dead to the World

Sean takes a step closer to Marilyn, he glares up at her, "You talking back to me?"  
  
"I am. What are you going to do? Hit me?" Marilyn questions, drawing more attention to the small group.  
  
"Maybe I will-" Sean was interrupted by Craig, who stepped between the two; pushing them away from each other.  
  
"Calm down guys." Craig looks at Sean and Marilyn nervously, "Maybe you two should just chill for a while, huh?"  
  
Marilyn pulls away from Craig and walks down the hall, pushing through the crowd of people, and heads to the foyer.  
  
"Freak!" Sean yells after her, "You should have let me deck her." He grumbles to Craig.  
  
"That wouldn't help anything." He responds.  
  
Jimmy smirks, "It would help her face!" He laughs.  
  
"Nice on, Jimmy." Ashley Kerwin sneers, "Why do you dislike her so much? I have English with her, she seems nice enough."  
  
~*~  
  
Craig fiddled with the strap of his camera as he waited for the bus. He couldn't stop his eyes from moving over to Marilyn; sitting on the stone railing of the school steps. He really couldn't understand this; it seemed like everyone but him thought that Marilyn was ugly and an outcast, to him she was quite the opposite... she was attractive in his eyes, he had to keep reminding himself that he was dating Ashley.  
  
He could overhear some of Marilyn's conversation. (she was half talking, half yelling into a cell phone), "I don't care if you think gas prices are more important than me because they probably are, I just need a ride home! ... I would, but I don't know the bus routs ... I'd rather wal- ...." She flips her phone shut and sighs.  
  
Spinner laughs, "She talks funny." He's sitting next to Craig at the base of the steps.  
  
"She's from Brooklyn, Spin. I'm sure she thinks we talk funny." Craig quickly turns his head to the street.  
  
"You don't like her, do you?" Spinner asks, disgusted.  
  
Craig laughs oddly, "No. I'm dating Ashley, you know that." He fumbles with his camera.  
  
~*~  
  
Slowly walking down the steps, Craig tries to find something to say as he heads into the living room. "... Hey, Joey?" He plops himself down on the end of the couch across from his uncle.  
  
"Yeah, Craig?" Joey Jeremiah sets down the TV Guide he was looking through, "Something wrong?"  
  
"No and yes..."  
  
Joey looks at Craig, "No and yes?"  
  
"... You know that I'm going out with Ashley, right?"  
  
Joey nods, "Something wrong between the two of you?"  
  
Craig shakes his head, "No, but there's this new girl at school. I like her, no one else seems too, but I think I'm getting a crush on her..." 


	6. Bleed The Freak

"What's her name?" Joey asked, giving his full attention to Craig.  
  
"Marilyn Sterling."  
  
Joey nods, "Her parents came to the lot earlier today, which has nothing to do with anything. Do you know much about her?"  
  
Craig thought for a moment, "No. I don't think anyone knows much about Marilyn, she doesn't talk that much and she just moved here."  
  
"Maybe you should get to know her. I don't think you want to end it with Ashley over a crush, sometimes when you get to know people... they aren't as glamorous as you thought they'd be."  
  
"But what if she is?"  
  
Joey puts a hand on Craig's shoulder, "Then I guess you have a big choice to make."  
  
~*~  
  
Spinner makes a face, as if he's trying to think, which ceases the talk by his friends. "What do you guys think of that Marilyn girl?"  
  
"Why? You don't like her, do you?" Sean questioned, in near shock.  
  
"No. I was just wondering, Craig seems to like her."  
  
Marco swallowed his popcorn and began to speak, "I don't have any classes with her, what's she like?"  
  
"As goth as anyone can get, scary, quiet... I don't want to talk about her." Jimmy laughs.  
  
Spinner draped himself across Jimmy's couch, "Why here? She's going to flip our world upside down, and not in a good way."  
  
"Everyone hates her, 'cept Craig... but that shouldn't take long." Sean stated.  
  
"I don't hate her." Marco chimes in.  
  
"Trust me, you will." Jimmy says to Marco. He looks out the living room window and shivers, "She lives across the street from me, how freaky is that?"  
  
Sean stands up and walks over to Jimmy. It was getting dark outside, the street lamps were turning on and small children were being called in by their parents. "She's a loner, hopefully she'll stay out of our sight and we'll forget that she exists."  
  
~*~  
  
Across the street, Marilyn sits at her desk and writes in a small black notebook. Alice In Chains seeped through her stereo, her door was locked and christened with the usual howls of "Turn that down!" She thought about her day, how horrible it was and most likely how it will stay that way.  
  
"I'd rather go to a Hilary Duff concert and enjoy it than go back to that prison cell. It's funny how people can still be the same in different countries, how they can still do anything to feel superior to everyone else... God, do I hate it here. At least back home I had Slade, but I have no one now. There's this boy though, Craig something-or-other, who seems to have taking a liking to me. Amusing, isn't it? He's not my type though, not by any means, so nothing's going to happen.  
  
Jane and Mark have gone gaga over this place, they actually love it here. Things are too expensive and boring here; who pays $3.99 for garbage on a plate? There's no Sam Goody, no good malls, no one here takes American money, and no one's ever heard of any good metal bands. There are things worse than that though, like the people... but I'm not going to get into that tonight.  
  
Marilyn."  
  
She closes her diary and carries it over to her bed, pulling up some sheets, she stuffs the book in a slit in the mattress. Marilyn picks up her cell phone and dials a number, long ago memorized by heart, and waits for someone to answer.  
  
"Mare!" Slade yells into the phone, thrilled that she called. "What's up, baby? How's Canada?"  
  
Marilyn smiles, glad to be talking to her boyfriend, "I detest it here. I want to go back home, it's like a black hole here."  
  
"That bad, huh?" Slade asks, "If it makes you feel better, I love you and miss you." He chuckles.  
  
"[I] Love and miss you, too."  
  
"Met any friends yet?"  
  
"Yeah right, everyone here treats me like toxic waste. I'm used to it though."  
  
"Well, you're a lot like a scar; you're there and there's no getting rid of you."  
  
Marilyn stands up and walks over to her vanity, she notices her fading lip color and touches up the black lipstick. "Thanks." She replies sarcastically.  
  
"I'm just saying that over time, those people are going to love you."  
  
"And when they learn all about me, they're going to love me even more."  
  
"How I miss your sarcasm." Slade says somewhat longlingly, "I'm sure those people aren't phobes."  
  
"They may be." There's another rap on the door, signaling dinner. "I've got to eat dinner, Slade, I'll take to you later."  
  
"Genetically modified chicken parts?" Back in Brooklyn, Slade was a daily guest at the dinner table. He could, most likely, win a contest of guessing what the Sterlings' dinner usually consisted of.  
  
Marilyn pauses as she thinks, smelling the air quietly, "No. Smells more like lamb."  
  
"Damn." Slade laughs, "Bye, hun." He hangs up his line and soon Marilyn does the same.  
  
Tossing her phone onto her bed, she walks over to her stereo and shuts it off, walks over to unlock and opens her door, and heads downstairs. When she arrives in the dining room, he sees her parents already starting without her, not like she cares. Marilyn sits down at an open chair and begins to put veggies on the plate in front of her.  
  
Her mother was already dressed for her job, she ran a liqour store back home and she was able to find a job at a local supermarket easily. The gold nameplate glared 'Jane Sterling' and you could cut through her 'joy' with a knife, "How was your first day, Marilyn?"  
  
"If I adhere pawn frawns to my body, run off to the rain forest, glue myself to a tree, and call myself 'Queen Itchy...' could I never go back to that school?" Marilyn asks flatly.  
  
"It wasn't that bad." Mr. Sterling says as he cuts up his lamb chop.  
  
Marilyn leans back in her chair, "Were you there? I don't think so."  
  
Mrs. Sterling huffs, "You're still going to that school, and would you eat something for once!"  
  
"For the last time, I don't eat meat."  
  
Mr. Sterling points to the potato slices with his fork, "Then eat the potatoes."  
  
"If they weren't cooked in the juices from the slaughtered lamb." Marilyn jabs her fork into some green beans and puts the vegetables into her mouth. 


	7. Misery Loves Company

It's a month later and History class. Marilyn's sitting in her desk, drawing instead of taking notes.  
  
Not to her surprise, she has no friends... mainly all of the students at DCS were her enemies; her greatest being Sean, Paige, Ellie, Spinner, Ashley, Emma, and Jimmy. Marilyn didn't like Ashley from the beginning, she felt that Ashley wasn't true and Ashley felt that Marilyn was too dark to handle, fake, and depressed. Ellie, being Ashley's best friend, grew to dislike Marilyn too.  
  
Craig, on the other hand, still was in awe about this girl; how she was the definition of mysterious, how no one knew more about her than anyone else... yet she was still the outcast that everyone wanted gone. He sat behind Marilyn in History, trying to get information about her by studying what she wore, how she wrote, and so on.  
  
"Alright, class." The teacher brought his students out of their thoughts, "I've been bluffing you guys with a project for weeks now, and this time I'm serious." There were groans throughout the room as the teacher grabs a pile of note cards off of his desk, "Each of you will get a note card with your subject and partner written on it. You'll have three weeks to work on your presentations before addressing the rest of the class. Keep in mind that this will be worth 40% of your final grade." He walks up and down the isles, handing students their cards.  
  
Trying to hide a smile as he looks at his card, Craig reads the nicely printed 'Marilyn Sterling: Concentration Camps.' He's about to tap Marilyn's shoulder when she turns around.  
  
"Hey... partner."  
  
~*~  
  
After school, Craig races over to Marilyn, who's pulling her BMX bike out of the rack. "Hey, Marilyn!"  
  
Marilyn sits down on her bike and looks at the running Craig, "Yeah?"  
  
"I was wondering" Craig starts when he gets to her, "We only have three weeks to prepare for our [history] presentation, maybe we should get to work soon... there's a lot we need to do."  
  
"Alright, I was thinking the same thing." She moves a strand of hair from her eyes, "When do you want to get started?"  
  
Craig thought for a moment, "This weekend?"  
  
Marilyn nods, "Okay. You need my number don't you?"  
  
"That would prove helpful." Craig smiles.  
  
Marilyn searches through her bag for a pen. Finding one, she takes Craig's arm and writes her cell phone number on the back of his hand, "There you go."  
  
Craig stares down at the numbers on his hand, a tingling sensation running throughout his body, "Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
~*~  
  
Craig jogged down the staircase that Saturday afternoon, wearing his fifth outfit of the day. He hugs Angie, who's playing with a slinky at the base of the steps.  
  
"Are we looking good yet?" Joey asks from the kitchen with a smile on his face.  
  
"Well, I want to look nice." Craig remarks, tugging gently on his gray, button up The Clash shirt.  
  
Joey puts a roast in the oven and wipes his hands on a towel hanging from his belt, "But not too nice?"  
  
Craig nods.  
  
Setting the microwave kitchen timer, Joey looks at Craig, "How long do you think you'll be over there?" He tosses a green apple to Craig when he walks over to the breakfast bar.  
  
Shrugging, Craig takes a bite of the apple and speaks when he finishes chewing the piece, "I'm not sure. Depends, really; if she doesn't have a computer, then we might have a while to spend at the library."  
  
"If you have to, you can stay there for dinner, if they'll let you. Just be home by curfew."  
  
"I'm sure I won't be gone longer than three hours."  
  
"But if you are, call me so I don't have to pull my hair out worrying about you... if I had hair."  
  
Craig laughs and eyes the clock, "I better get going." He walks over to the couch and snatches his backpack, runs over to Angie and gives her a hug, and throws the apple back to Joey. Saying his goodbyes, Craig heads out the door.  
  
When he arrives at the Sterling house, Craig knocks on the front door and waits for someone to answer. He doesn't have to wait long before hearing large boots thunder down the staircase, the door is unlocked and swung open. Craig raises his eyes from the porch and sees a tall girl with damp black hair, green eyes, and fair skin. "Is Marilyn here?"  
  
The girl laughs lightly, "Hey, Craig."  
  
"Marilyn?"  
  
She nods, "You came early, I took a shower 20 minutes ago." Marilyn opens the door farther to let him in.  
  
Craig walks inside and notices a woman walk out of the livingroom and towards the door. She's short, tan, and dressed up in a work uniform. He's about to say something to her when the woman speaks.  
  
"I'll be back at two, your father will be back at midnight." She takes a coat off of the rack and puts it on, she then picks up a purse resting on a bench.  
  
"Bye, Mom, I love you." Marilyn says to her mother.  
  
Her mother laughs disbelievingly, "Right." She walks out of the house and shuts the door behind her.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Marilyn looks at Craig, "Do you want anything?"  
  
Craig shakes his head, "... I'm fine."  
  
"Alright then, you get to watch me paint my face." Marilyn chuckles softly and begins to walk up the stairs.  
  
Craig follows Marilyn to her room, not surprised at all by the dungeon like decor. Once again, he was unable to identify the band that was pouring through the stereo speakers.  
  
"Do you mind if I put my make-up on?"  
  
"Not at all, just tell me who's playing on your stereo." Craig stated, turning a light shade of red.  
  
Marilyn sits down at her vanity and opens a jar. "Count two down from the top left corner and then five across." She directs, pointing to a wall plastered with band posters.  
  
Craig does as he's told, "Voidvod?"  
  
Laughing, Marilyn temporarily stops spreading the white [face] paint on her face, "That's four across."  
  
"Oh." Craig blushes more and moves his eyes over to the next poster, "Kittie." He walks over to the bed and sits down, watching Marilyn put on her make-up.  
  
She quickly finishes, adds eye shadow and liner, and sets dark red contacts over her eyes. Letting her hair be, Marilyn stands up and walks over to a large bookcase. "How do you want to do this?" She asks, pulling several books from the bottom shelf.  
  
"I want to do something interesting, definitely; we could use visuals and things like that. I was thinking about slipping a comparison at the end, how the camps are still around in one form or another."  
  
Marilyn listens to Craig as she walks across the large bedroom to him and hands him the books. Heading to her desk, she picks up a laptop and shuts her bedroom door. "Sounds great to me." Walking back over to bed, she sits down upon the queen sized mattress and lowers the volume of the stereo with a remote resting on the quilt.  
  
Craig smiles and sets the books beside him, removes his backpack, and gets out his History book, notebook, and a pencil. He gently plops his backpack on the charcoal carpet and looks through the stack of books by his left thigh, "Were did you get these? This is amazing."  
  
Marilyn opens her laptop and speedily leans back to plug in a wire into the phone jack above one of the bedside tables. "I worked part-time at a book store on Long Island a few summers ago." Sitting back up, she gets onto the internet and types the address for the History Channel, "You never know when you need books like those for school or something else."  
  
Two hours later Craig and Marilyn are laughing; enjoying each other's company and having a good time. Craig looks at the picture he's holding, "Who's that?" He asks, tapping the glass on top of Slade.  
  
"My boyfriend Slade."  
  
Craig could feel his heart drop to his stomach, "Slade?" He hated the way that came out, "How long have you two been together?"  
  
"3 years, since the eighth grade." Marilyn looks at Craig, sensing how uncomfortable he is.  
  
"Oh..." He sets the picture frame back on the desk and looks at a collage above the piece of furniture. There are tons of cut out pictures, all of Marilyn with one other person. There aren't any duplicates, which surprises Craig, he only sees one of each girl or boy in the entire collage... in one picture, Marilyn has her arms around a punk girl her age and she's kissing the girl's cheek. "Friends of yours?"  
  
Marilyn rubs her neck, "In a way... yes."  
  
"What do you mean?" Craig turns around to look at Mariyln, standing somewhat behind him.  
  
"Well..." She begins, but looks at the clock, "What time do you have to be home by?"  
  
Craig looks at his watch, "I guess I should get going. Would you like to come? My uncle Joey's cooking a pot roast, and since your parents are at work..."  
  
"I'd like to, but I'm a vegetarian."  
  
"I can make a mean egg salad." Craig volunteers.  
  
Marilyn smiles softly, "I'm veggan too." She states, "Besides, I have stuff I need to do around here." 


	8. Shallow Graves

The next day Craig walked up the peeling white porch with a smile on his face, he had forgotten a book at the Sterling's and gladly went back to pick it up, anything to see Marilyn again would make him happier. He found himself thinking about her nonstop, which scared him half to death; here he had a great girlfriend and he was falling for another girl. He rang the doorbell and stared at the glass inlays on the door, trying to draw Marilyn to get there faster...  
  
A tall man opened the door; clean cut, neatly dressed, and a void expression to his dull, brown eyes. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Yes, is Marilyn home?" Craig asked politely.  
  
The man looked shocked, as if he was surprised that anyone would want to see Marilyn, "No. She's not in."  
  
"Oh. I left my History book here last night, I was wondering if I could go and get it."  
  
"You can go up to her room and look for it if you want, but her door's probably locked." The man let Craig in, scratching his head and shrugging slightly, "You know where it is?"  
  
Craig nods and begins to walk to the back of the house. He stepped into the brightly decorated kitchen and turned right, taking a large step and starting up the steep stairwell. Craig found it odd that her... father didn't know whether or not her door would be locked; locking your door isn't a random thing. When he did get to her room, it was locked. Craig sighed and headed back to the first floor.  
  
After some searching, Craig found the adult that let him him, "Do you know where Marilyn is?"  
  
He shook his head, "How should I know?" He looked up from his newspaper and across the living room to Craig.  
  
"You don't know where she is?"  
  
"She's only my step-daughter." Mr. Sterling half spat, "Try the park or something, that girl is always taking pictures or drawing disgusting shit at parks."  
  
Craig remained silent for a moment or two, blown away that any parent would say something like that about their daughter. He muttered, "Thank you" and left the house, deciding to walk to the park instead of ask Joey to drive him; figuring that he'd have a better chance of spotting her that way.  
  
Marilyn wasn't at the park, she was actually at a deserted field five blocks away from it. From the road, Craig could see Marilyn holding a camera to her face, facing a large dead tree planted in the middle of the dead brush. He began to walk towards her, "Hey, Marilyn!" He called, but got a hushing motion from her hand as a reply. When he got to Marilyn, he watched as she soaked everything in; trying to get the perfect shot.  
  
She took the picture seconds before a large, black crow took off into the sky. Marilyn placed her camera into her messenger back and took out a thick book, "Came looking for this?"  
  
"Yeah," Craig smiles, "Thanks." He takes the book from her.  
  
"No problem."  
  
Craig looked around the desolate field, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Thinking, mainly, but when I saw the tree... I had to get the perfect picture from it." She explained, holding a hand out in the tree's direction.  
  
"Why?" Craig asks, looking over at the tree, "It's dead and ugly, who would want to take a picture of it?"  
  
Marilyn placed her hands on Craig's shoulders, turning him so that his face and body was facing the tree, "Look at it."  
  
"I am looking." He stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"No. Really look at it." Marilyn directed.  
  
Craig huffed and looked closer at the dead thing. The tree was near black with age and menacing looking, some of its branches reaching up toward the sky while others where twisting down to the ground. There was a knothole in the middle, left side of the upper trunk that closely resembled an eye, one that was filled with torment.  
  
"Do you see it?" Marilyn asks, almost breathing down his neck as she, too, stared at the tree.  
  
"What am I suppose to be seeing?"  
  
Marilyn walked around Craig so that she was by his side, "It looks like souls in a way, souls trapped in purgatory. See those branches?" She asks, pointing to the branches reaching to the clouds, "Those are arms reaching to Heaven, while the others are drawn to Hell. And the crow only made the tree more of an eager piece of art."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The crow's a sign of Satan." Marilyn explains, but then she laughs oddly, "I'm freaking you out aren't I?"  
  
Craig smiles, "Only a little."  
  
~*~  
  
The week brought kids back to school, most moaning because they were having such a great weekend. It was lunch hour, many students flooding the school yards; wanting to enjoy the warm, sunny day as much as possible. Spinner spits out another joke about Marilyn, which seemed to be the day's activity. Craig rolls his eyes yet again, but soon found himself in the spotlight, "So, Craig, what's it like working with the blood sucker on the History assignment?"  
  
"It's fine." Craig answers, when in truth it was great. He didn't know why, but he was scared of what his friends would think of him if he told the truth.  
  
Jimmy smirks, "Speaking of the devil." He points over at Marilyn, sitting on the curb behind the picnic table the boys are sitting on. Easily they can overhear her conversation; something they do a lot of.  
  
Marilyn runs a hand through the back of her hair, strengthening any weak spikes, "You think I'd do something like that, Slade? Well I wouldn't, which helps jack squat about what you did.... How long?.. How long, GodDamn it!.... And you think I wouldn't find out? What do you take me for?..."  
  
"What do you think's going on?" Craig asks in a whisper, getting shrugs as answers.  
  
"I'm just naive, right? What was I thinking when I thought that you, of all people, wouldn't hurt me.... Bull! You cheated on me, the distance doesn't matter because you've been with her before I came here!...." Marilyn hisses, pulling a chain from her neck and throwing a Death's head necklace into the road, "It's over. I should've done this a long time ago......... How dare you. If you ever say anything like that to me again, you better be wearing a cup!" She hangs up her cell phone and watches as a car drives down the road, crushing the necklace as it drives over it.  
  
~*~  
  
Spinner grinned as he flipped through the tv channels, proud with an idea that came into his mind. He was used to not saying anything until people asked him what was up, but today he didn't want to hold it in, "I have the greatest idea ever."  
  
"Yeah?" Craig, Jimmy, and Marco said in unison. Their boy's night was a bust, everyone was trying to find something interesting and fun to do.  
  
"How would you like to take a bet?" Spinner asks, looking at Craig.  
  
"A bet? What kind of a bet?" Craig tried to remain calm.  
  
Spinner hesitated, "Marilyn just broke up with her boyfriend, right? If you take the bet, you'd have to....." Spinner's voice faded as he spoke, Craig tuning out yet acting like he was listening; there was no way he'd not be able to take the bet... whatever it was, he'd have to do it. In his mind there was no other option. 


	9. Disciplined Breakdown

He took the bet, he couldn't take what would happen if he didn't; he'd have to tell his closest friends how he felt for the girl that they hated so and face losing them. Craig knew that it was stupid and irrational, but he didn't think long before he spoke.  
  
~*~  
  
"Craig, hurry up!" Joey calls up the stairs. It was almost 5 O'Clock, Marilyn was going to come over to work on the project any minute. He and Craig had spent an hour trying to think of something to cook for Marilyn besides a salad... with very little luck.  
  
Looking around his room, Craig nods to himself and leaves the bedroom to head downstairs. Marilyn had been over to the house before, but each time she did Craig seemed to inspect everything closer. Craig raced down the stairs, "How's everything?"  
  
"For the tenth time, everything's fine and dandy." Joey laughs.  
  
The doorbell rings and Craig scrambles to the door and opens it, "Hey, Marilyn." He greets, letting her inside.  
  
"Hey, Craig, Mr. Jeremiah." Marilyn walks inside the house, carrying her bag.  
  
"Call me Joey." He states kindly, nearly drowned out by Angie as she runs down the stairs.  
  
"Mary-lan!" Angie calls, a smile on her face, "I haven't seen you since two days ago!" When she gets to the others, Angie raises her arms.  
  
Marilyn picks Angie up and gives her a hug. She and the little girl had befriended each other quickly; Angie always wanted a big sister and Marilyn seemed to fit the role better than Emma at times, "I didn't miss you." She jokes.  
  
Angie scrunches up her nose, trying to look angry, "I didn't miss you too."  
  
Joey laughs, "Enough, enough. These kids have work to do." He looks at Marilyn, "There's a spot open for you for if you're here for dinner, but call your parents if you are staying here."  
  
"They don't care whether I stay or not." Marilyn says, adding "They never care" in her mind.  
  
Craig and Marilyn walk upstairs and into the bedroom, "Did you get started on the poster? I scanned and printed some pictures out of the books you gave me." Craig explains, walking over to his desk and picking up a red folder.  
  
"It's in my bag..." Marilyn says carefully as she opened up her messenger bag and pulled out a rolled up poster board.  
  
Craig turns and watches Marilyn take out their poster, "Looks like it survived."  
  
The hours began to pass as they got to work; finding facts, inhaling rubber cement and highlighter fumes, going over and over what they were going to say, and perfecting everything. When eyes strained and wrists burned, they set down their work and sat on the bed.  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
"I don't know, can you?" Marilyn smirks, stuffing a notebook in her bag.  
  
Craig rubs the back of his neck, "There's rumors going around schoo-"  
  
Marilyn sighs, "What else is new... what do you want to know?"  
  
"You're dad, he-"  
  
"Died." Marilyn cut him off again, "And don't say you're sorry, I'm not."  
  
Craig hesitates, "You're not? How can you not be sorry?"  
  
"Pretty easily." Marilyn says flatly.  
  
Craig looks at Marilyn, "My dad died too, and I am sorry. He would hit me and I'm sorry that he died." He huffs.  
  
"You had it easy... you were lucky."  
  
Craig narrows his eyes, "I had it easy? My dad fucking beat me. He would take all of his anger out on me with his fists or anything else he could get his hands on. He died and I still loved him after what he did to me." He spits, "How is that being lucky?"  
  
Marilyn raises her eyes to meet Craig's. She's not wearing any contacts, her eyes needed to breathe, and Craig could see a glint in the green hues; a glint of a child's lost innocence.  
  
"Mare?"  
  
"... I wanted my father dead for the longest time, since I was four all I felt towards him was the strongest hate imaginable. I would be so happy when he didn't come home when he said he would; I'd hope that he left us or he was killed by some random addict on the streets... but that never happened, he would always come home. The day he did die was the day I told my mother what he had done to me. I washed the dog and my clothes were soaked, I went to my room to change and Mom came in to get my laundry. She..." Marilyn takes a shuddered breath, "she saw the bruises on my thighs and lower abdomen; that was the first and last time she gave a rat's ass about me. When Dad came home we both confronted him... I was thirteen. For years I was molested and told that was love, anything else was a lie." She has to stop herself for a moment, "I screamed at him, told him that I wanted him dead... He stormed out of the house and died three hours later; shot during a drug store robbery. I didn't cry, I never cried, I smiled. Every day I would go to the cemetery and spit on his grave." Marilyn looks away from Craig, no emotion left in her voice.  
  
Craig was speechless. He didn't know what to say and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to say it. A wave of sickness washed over him and he felt like he needed to vomit.  
  
Joey knocked on the bedroom door a few minutes later, "Dinner you two."  
  
~*~  
  
Weeks after, Craig and Marilyn spend more time together. They got an A on their History project, deciding that they were a good team. Craig was having difficulty acting like he and Ashley were friends and nothing more, to his knowledge Marilyn had no idea that he and Ashley were dating. The bet was seemingly breathing down his neck, pushing him in directions that he didn't want to go... but did anyway.  
  
Craig didn't want to use Marilyn like he was. He didn't want to get close to her, just to push her away and tell his friends what he had found out about her. He wanted to cancel the bet, Craig was falling harder and faster for Marilyn and he didn't want to hurt her like he had to.  
  
He asked her to be his girlfriend nonetheless, she said yes. Craig was seemingly in a balancing act between Marilyn and Ashley; he couldn't let either one of them find out about one another. Craig needed the money for a better camera; his current one had seen better days and Craig had his eyes on an expensive, professional grade, digital camera... 


	10. Inner Conflict

Craig sighed as he tossed around in his bed, sweat soaking his night clothes and sheets bunched down to the end of the mattress. He soon gave up his feeble attempts at sleep and, laying on his back, stares at his ceiling. He felt nauseated; his conscious eating him alive and making him sick. Craig was growing so tired of having to juggle Marilyn and Ashley, knowing in the end that he was only going to hurt Marilyn. Sighing again, he sat up and looked at the clock... it was 5am.  
  
He trudged downstairs and sat down on the couch, staring at nothing in particular until he heard Joey walk downstairs for his wake up cup of coffee. Joey didn't see Craig at first, not until he started the coffee maker and looked into the living area to see what coughed. "Craig? What are you doing up so early?" He asked concerned.  
  
"Couldn't sleep." Craig responded in monotone.  
  
Joey frowned, "You don't look good at all."  
  
"I feel about 20,000 times worse." Craig laughed dryly.  
  
"Go back upstairs, you're staying home today. I'll call the school as soon as it opens, okay?"  
  
Craig shook his head, "I'm fine enough to go to school. I'm just tired--"  
  
"--Now!" Joey commanded, pointing to the staircase. "If you go to school you're going to infect everyone else, let alone make yourself worse."  
  
Craig nodded, "Yeah, yeah." He got to his feet and started to walk towards the kitchen, grabbing a Nuta-Grain bar from a basket on the counter.  
  
Joey gave Craig a stern look, "Shoo. I'll be up to check on you soon."  
  
An hour later, Joey walked into Craig's room. He snapped his fingers to get his foster son's attention, "You should be in bed."  
  
Craig sighed and shut his book, getting up from his desk and heading to his bed. "I'm not tired." He groaned, getting situated under the covers.  
  
"I'll bring in the TV from my room if you'd like, give you something to do than just laying there in bed." Joey volunteered, walking over and sitting on the edge of Craig's bed, "How are you feeling?"  
  
Craig shrugged, "Awful."  
  
"Think it's the flu?"  
  
Shaking his head, Craig sighed, "I'm just really confused and frustrated I guess. I mean, I've been hanging out a lot with Marilyn and... I'm not suppose to like her like I do because I'm going out with Ashley, but..." He trails off again.  
  
"I see, and your feelings are making you sick?" Joey nodded, answering his own question, "No one ever said you can't like two people, you just have to know who you like better and try not to hurt anyone."  
  
Craig felt a lump rise in his throat, "Ashley's great, but so is Marilyn. It's just... what if something you think is great, really is great, but it's not as great as something greater?"  
  
"Sounds like you already know who you have stronger feelings for."  
  
~*~  
  
The next weekend, Craig feeling better yet still dating both Marilyn and Ashley, he takes Marilyn to the mall. Killing an hour before a movie starts, they walk into FYE and start poking around the rock isle, rating some of the cds out of sheer boredom. "Come on!" Craig half whines, "Everyone knows that this is the best album Pink Floyd's ever released." He states, holding up Dark Side Of The Moon.  
  
Shaking her head, Marilyn hands Craig Wish You Were Here, "How can you even like them? Queen on the other hand--"  
  
"--Queen?" Craig almost laughed, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with Queen, just because they weren't metal in later years doesn't mean I can't listen to them."  
  
Craig shakes the look off of his face, "But Queen? Why not..." He starts looking through a line of CDs in front of him, "The Smiths?"  
  
Marilyn scoffs, "Please."  
  
"And what's wrong with The Smiths?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know... everything." Marilyn pulls out a package looking CD box and hands it to him, "The Grateful Dead can beat The Smiths butt any day of the week."  
  
Craig smiles, "You think that." He casts his eyes over to the entrance and his face goes pale. Ashley walks into the store, heading over to the sweatshirts. "Do you want to go? Maybe get something to eat or mix all the smells together at Bath Works?"  
  
Not looking at him, Marilyn reads the back of a random CD, "We just got here."  
  
"I know, but..." He let his voice trail off, panicking slightly.  
  
"Are you okay? You look awful pale." Marilyn asks.  
  
Trying to think of something, anything, Craig blurts out, "No, not really. I think I need to sit down or get some food in my stomach." He shifts his eyes around wildly, but Ashley's gone just a soon as she arrived. Craig sighs in relief.  
  
Marilyn gives him a worried, yet confused, look. "Craig?"  
  
"On second thought, I feel fine." He says casually, quickly picking up an Oasis CD and studying the front cover.  
  
"You're acting really weird, is something wrong?"  
  
Craig laughs, "Nothing's wrong." He sets the CDs in his hands back where it belongs and decides that he doesn't want to take another chance if Ashley shows up again. Turning to face the doors, Craig takes another look around, "Do you want to get a cookie? I'm starving." He turns around and bumps into Marilyn, who was walking up behind him.  
  
For some reason Craig wouldn't let Marilyn pass, he'd stay in front of her and block her so she couldn't move forward. "What are you doing?" Marilyn asked almost in a whisper.  
  
"I don't know..." Craig replied, his voice even softer. He was looking down into her eyes, which were yellow cat's eyes at the moment, and soon his body became a large mass of jell-o. He began to lean in, having no control over himself, and soon his lips were pressed against Marilyn's. There was a delay before Marilyn kissed him back, a feeling that never happened around Ashley flowing through his veins.  
  
He then felt a tap on his shoulder. Breaking away from the kiss, thinking that the person behind him was the manager, he turned around to see Ashley standing there with her arms crossed. "Hey, Craig." 


	11. Without A Face

Craig felt like there was a gold ball in his throat. He was standing in between both of his girlfriends, scared to death about what could happen any second now. Instead of of brawl, though, Ashley turned around and left the store... leaving Craig with Marilyn. It was all he could do not to run away and hide under a rock, it was all he could do to stand there and see Marilyn's expression.  
  
"What was that about?" She asks, though in a tone that hints that she all ready knows.  
  
Craig cast his eyes to the ground, searching for something to say. "She's... Ashley's my girlfriend." He flooded out, listening to silence after that. Craig looks up, only to see Marilyn shake her head in disgust and pushes (rather forcefully) past him to the main doors.  
  
He found himself turning around and walking after Marilyn, "Marilyn!" At the doors, Craig sees Ashley walking away to his left and Marilyn to his right. Taking a deep breath, Craig chases after Ashley.  
  
~*~  
  
Marilyn was faced with a wave of sniggering and torment the next week. With news traveling fast, it was no surprise to her that more than half of the school knew about what happened... mainly everyone getting a kick out of it. Marilyn was enraged more than anything; being played with was practically a way of life, but the fact of someone taking a piece away from her in a way such as that still stung.  
  
Jimmy and his friends were taking something like this with their full advantage, taking every chance they got to laugh at Marilyn about it. Ashley dumped Craig, so did Marilyn, resulting with most people thinking that Marilyn was the cause of the couple's breakup; only a select few knew about the bet. Marilyn, not surprisingly, was used to the comments by the end of the first day.  
  
Craig felt worse than he ever had in his life. He couldn't get a word in with Marilyn or Ashley, he had to stand by and feel more horrible every time he heard people bashing Marilyn.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the home wrecker now. How are you doing? Thinking about another relationship to ruin?" Jimmy sneers, he and his friends laugh as they stop in front of Marilyn.  
  
Marilyn kept hearing the same things for days now, she couldn't even take a drink of water without people breaking her down about what happened. She couldn't take it anymore. "Why do you people think that you know me? You don't know the first Goddamn thing there is to know about me." Marilyn half screams, punching her locker and pushing through the small crowd around her. She begins to walk down the hall to the school's main doors.  
  
Craig heard the commotion from the Science lab and walks out into the hall with Marco and Sean. He starts walking to Marilyn, outstretching an arm and putting a hand on her shoulder, "Marilyn."  
  
Marilyn moves her shoulder, causing Craig's hand to slide from it, "Get away from me."  
  
"No, I want to talk to you." This was all too familiar to him.  
  
"I said go away!"  
  
Craig raises his voice; not to yelling, but loud enough to get people's attention, "Why do you do this? Why do you hide behind a wall and let people talk about you like that?"  
  
Marilyn turns around and looks Craig in the eyes, "You want to know why I'm so hostile? You want to know why I push people away? It's because I'm bi, yes, I'm bisexual. Do you want me to yell louder? Let everyone in the building to know? Do you want to know why I have no friends, if I even wanted them? Maybe it's because I scare people away with my looks or maybe it's because if people find out about me, I'll be bounced around like a ping-pong ball! I can't be around the girls because they think I'll hit on them, and I certainly can't hang out with the guys because they think I'm some sort of a slut and I'll give them something! And knowing how people twist the truth around here, if they knew what my father did to me... I'll be known as Daddy's little whore!" Marilyn yells.  
  
The hallways is filled with a buzzing silence, the teachers who overheard the commotion didn't even know what to say. Everyone is staring at Marilyn, but Marco; who's looking down at the ground. Craig can only stare with his mouth open as Marilyn turns around, walks down the hall, and out the doors. He sees a flash run out the doors soon after, Spinner most likely. Craig turned his head and saw Marco, staring back at him with wide eyes before leaving the crowd to go back into class.  
  
Outside, Spinner slowly walks up to Marilyn and sits down on a bench beside her. He's about to say something when he's cut off.  
  
"Look, if you want to talk crap about my sexuality than do it with your idiot friends. You don't look bright enough to think of something on your own." Marilyn snaps, starting to stand up.  
  
Spinner puts a hand on Marilyn's shoulder and pushes her back down, "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about." He says softly. "I wanted to..."  
  
Marilyn sighs, "Doesn't anyone understand the phrase 'leave me alone?'"  
  
"You look like you need someone to talk to... You can hit me if you want, or scream at me- whatever you'd like."  
  
Marilyn laughs shortly, "I don't think you want me hitting you, I'll probably turn you into ground beef with all the anger running through me right now."  
  
"Then vent. Supposedly I'm a good..." Spinner searched for a word, "venter intaker, my sister lashes out on me all the time." He laughs slightly, staring at Marilyn's profile.  
  
"'Venter intaker?'" Marilyn looks at Spinner, eyebrows raised.  
  
Spinner shrugs, "I didn't know a better word."  
  
"Why are you even out here? You're one of the jerks who follow me around school, asking me whether or not I'm going to break you and Paige up yet."  
  
"Change of heart?"  
  
Marilyn scoffs, "You just want to watch me and another girl make-out don't you? I highly doubt you're different from all the other shallow guys out there."  
  
"Well, you're wrong." Spinner smiles. 


	12. Blue Monday

Marilyn rolled her eyes as she ate oatmeal. Her parents were having a fight about something stupid, she wasn't sure what about, she thought it probably had something to do with the laundry softener. Finishing off her bowl, Marilyn brought it over to the sink and rinsed it off before setting it and the utensils in the dishwasher. Her mother stormed into the kitchen, heels clicking against the tile flooring, "Come on. I'll drive you to school."  
  
"Sure, but there's one problem. School doesn't start for another hour." Marilyn retorts.  
  
"Don't pull this crap on me, young lady, I'm not in the mood. Now come on."  
  
Marilyn sighed and followed her mother to the car, knowing full well that putting up a fight won't help anything. She sat there as her mother drove, talking on a cell phone and holding onto the wheel with one finger. When dropped off, Marilyn says "good-bye, I love you" to her mom and walks inside the school.  
  
She decides to hang out in the Media Immersion room, seeing as how that's her homeroom anyway. Marilyn enters the lab, sitting down at her computer and clicking onto the internet. She hears someone enter the room and looks up, seeing Mr.Simpson walk into the lab. "Hey there, Marilyn. You're here early." Mr.Simpson greeted her with a smile.  
  
Marilyn raises and lowers one shoulder, "My mom dropped me off." She went back to her web site, catching up on tour dates for one of her favorite bands.  
  
Mr.Simpson set some paperwork on his desk, "May I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure, I guess."  
  
"Could you drop these off at the office for me? I've got to get started on a homework assignment." Mr.Simpson asked, tapping a small pile of yellow papers.  
  
Taking the papers, Marilyn nods and walks out of classroom and down the halls. When she gets to the office and sets the stack of papers into a wire basket, she overhears the secretary laughing with someone on the phone. Not bothering to waste anymore time in the office, half thinking of a place to go to skip this school day, Marilyn walks out into the hall and heads down the hallway. She stares at her boots, suppressing the urge to hit something, and soon collides with someone.  
  
She looks up, only to see Craig staring back at her. "Marilyn-"  
  
"Save it, okay? Let's just go our separate ways and be done with it." She snaps.  
  
Craig's face goes from nervous to hurt. "Can't I just-"  
  
"Didn't I tell you to save it?" Marilyn asks, walking forward and hitting Craig in the shoulder with hers. She heads back into the MI lab, leaving Craig standing distraught in the middle of the hallway.  
  
Marilyn soon pulls away from everything at school, only really trying in Art and Music class. She only talks to people when she's running around and talking pictures for the school newspaper, but even then she rarely speaks a sentence. Instead of snapping at anyone taking a shot at her, Marilyn soaks it all in and becomes void of any expressions. Despite Craig's ongoing attempts of trying to talk to her, he can't seem to ever get more than three words in with Marilyn, who either walks off or tells him that she doesn't have anything to say. Craig forces himself, one Saturday, to go over to Marilyn's house and demand to talk to her and not leave until he does.  
  
He walks up steps and slowly across the Sterlings' front porch, silently praying for a chance at explaining himself. Craig rings the doorbell when he arrives at the front door and waits for someone to let him in, but settles for a short figure walk toward him, morphed by the glass inlays on the door. Marilyn's mother opens the door, looking up at Craig and drying her hands with a blue checked hand towel. "Yes?"  
  
Craig smiles sweetly, "Hi. I was wondering whether or not Marilyn's home?" Maybe she'll be a little more informed about her own daughter's whereabouts, Craig thought to himself.  
  
"She is." Mrs. Sterling answers, "Can I ask who you are?"  
  
"I'm Craig Manning. I'm a -er- friend of Marilyn's." He lies, wondering why Mrs. Sterling doesn't recognize him.  
  
The woman squints at Craig for a moment before motioning him inside, "I'll go and get her. You can follow me into the kitchen and wait there while I get The Reaper, have a cookie if you want..." She tells him, shutting the door and starting to walk toward the kitchen, "Why on earth that child has friends is beyond me." Mrs. Sterling mumbles, shaking her head and pointing to a chair when they enter the sunny kitchen.  
  
Craig sits down, resting his left elbow on the round table and watching Marilyn's mother head up the staircase and out of sight. Music is floating down from the second floor, another heavy metal band that sounds unfamiliar to Craig.  
  
"Turn down that racket and get downstairs! You have a visitor over, if you can possibly believe that!" Mrs. Sterling yells, trying to be heard over the faint thumping of the band. He can't hear Marilyn's reply, but her mother soon says, "Craig, Craig something-or-other!" and then, "Fine, but you better be down for dinner or we're eating without you again!"  
  
Biting his lip, Craig stays silent until Mrs. Sterling reenters the kitchen. "Honestly, that child cannot have any of my blood." She looks at Craig, "You say you're a friend of hers?"  
  
Craig nods.  
  
"Well," Mrs. Sterling says, faking empathy, "Marilyn doesn't want to see you right now. You can try to talk to her if you want, Lord knows she doesn't give a damn about her father or I."  
  
"Thanks, but I can wait here... I mean, I have something important I need to talk to her about." Craig says, choosing his words carefully.  
  
Mrs. Sterling shrugs, "There's no point, really. That girl would stay locked up in her dungeon even if Van what's-his-name was in the entry hall."  
  
A door slams and two minutes later Mr. Sterling walks into the kitchen, grumbling about something and walking over to the table. He looks puzzled when he sees Craig sitting in his, Mr. Sterling's, chair. "You again?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I have something I need to talk to Marilyn about but, she won't come down, so I'm waiting." Craig explains, "She seems upset about something." He says, a confused tone in his voice though he knows that it's him that's got Marilyn so upset.  
  
Mr. Sterling sits down opposite Craig and rolls his eyes, "She's always upset about something. Maybe the Devil didn't accept her sacrifice, maybe one of her girlfriends dumped her," He says disgusted, "Hell only knows what's bugging that kid." 


	13. Low Man's Lyric

"_Girlfriends_?" Craig asked after several minutes of silence. He looked across the table at Marilyn's father, reading the daily newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. "That's right, she's bisexual."

Mrs. Sterling slammed something down on the kitchen counter, but didn't say anything. Her husband, on the other hand, set his reading material down on the table and looked at Craig. "You don't mention that under this roof, do you understand me, kid? We want nothing to do with Marilyn's philandering with other women, as far as I'm concerned she can burn in hell for this."

Craig instantly understood why Marilyn was so touchy, why she was so upset when he pointed out the collage in her bedroom. "It's only a sexual orientation, it doesn't mean anything about the person. I have a good friend whose homosexual, it doesn't lessen his character."

Mr. Sterling pointed his finger at Craig, "We believe in God in this house and we abide by The Holy Book. Don't you come in here preaching about the devil's work and about how sinning isn't sinning. You can either leave now or jog up those stairs and join the AntiChrist."

Choosing the latter, Craig rose to his feet and walked to Marilyn's bedroom door. He was surprised to realize that the music had stopped and that everything seemed relatively calm. Knocking, he cleared his throat. "It's Crai-"

The door opened slightly, just enough for a sliver of Marilyn's face to be seen. "I'm only going to tell you this once: I want you to leave, and thanks to what you said down there I doubt that you'll be allowed back in this house."

"A minute of your time, that's all I'm asking." He begged.

"No." The door slammed shut in his face and he heard the click of it being locked.

---

Later that night Craig sat in his room, the only light coming from the computer screen. He was creating a CD to give to Marilyn, the only way he could seemingly apologize to her. He spent hours searching the internet for the perfect song, searching lyric site after lyric site, and finally went to Kazza a half an hour ago to download the song and burn it onto the only blank CD left in his room. "Please let this work," he said aloud, "it's the only thing left I can think of."

---

A loud _pink!_ coming from the window woke her up. She was a light sleeper, the slightest noise could rouse her from her dreams, and she was never too happy about that. There was another _pink!_, proving that Marilyn wouldn't be able to just fall back to sleep like nothing happened, so she threw the covers off of her body and made her way sleepily to her window. She had a chair near the window with a lamp right by it, which was flipped on. Opening the window, Marilyn looked down and sighed. "What do you want, Craig?" She slid up the screen to look at him better.

"Back up." He threw the CD case with all his might, watching it soar upwards and through her window. It landed on the floor, the 'listen to me' scribbled down on the case facing the ceiling.

Marilyn picked it up and looked out the window, seeing Craig standing on the lawn patiently, looking back at her. She picked up her laptop from her desk and carried it to the chair. Sitting down, she booted the computer up and put the music disc into the machine. The Media Player popped up and she pressed play:

_My eyes seek reality  
My fingers seek my veins  
There's a dog at your back step  
He must come in from the rain  
I fall 'cause I let go  
The net below has rot away  
So my eyes seek reality  
And my fingers seek my veins_

For a few years of her life Marilyn loved this song, but now she didn't. She leaned back in her chair. "Why Metallica?"

_The trash fire is warm  
But nowhere safe from the storm  
And I can't bear to see  
What I've let me be  
So wicked and worn_

"Got that right," She grumbled, looking at the window with emotion filled eyes.

_So as I write to you  
Of what is done and to do  
Maybe you'll understand  
And won't cry for this man  
'cause low man is due_

_Please forgive m-_

At this point Marilyn stopped the CD and and made a song message of her own. When she was done, she tossed it out of her window and closed it.

---

It was near midnight by the time Craig snuck back into the house and up to his room. His stomach was in a knot, panic washing over him as he stared at the CD. "Maybe she forgave me..." He got out his discman and put on the headphones. Laying down on his bed, he plopped the DC into the player and hit start, adjusting the volume up.

_Wish I was too dead to cry  
My self-affliction fades  
Stones to throw at my creator  
Masochists to which I cater_

_You don't need to bother; I don't need to be  
I'll keep slipping farther  
But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds_

_Wish I was too dead to care  
If indeed I cared at all  
Never had a voice to protest  
So you fed me shit to digest  
I wish I had a reason; my flaws are open season  
For this, I gave up trying  
One good turn deserves my dying_

_You don't need to bother; I don't need to be  
I'll keep slipping farther  
But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds_

_Wish I'd died instead of lived  
A zombie hides my face  
Shell forgotten with its memories  
Diaries left with cryptic entries_

_And you don't need to bother; I don't need to be  
I'll keep slipping farther  
But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds_

_You don't need to bother; I don't need to be here  
I'll keep slipping farther  
But once I hold on (once I hold on)... I'll never live down my deceit_

(A/N: Songs used in this chapter: Low Man's Lyric by Metallica and Bother by Stone Sour.)


End file.
